


Knock Before Entering

by blacktofade



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-17
Updated: 2009-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy accidentally walks in on Kirk and Chekov in the act, and it all goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock Before Entering

Bones needs to talk to Jim about the new equipment they should pick up upon arrival at the dock. While he’s at it, he should also mention that he’s running low on supplies, which is mainly Jim’s fault to begin with – no man should need that much medical attention over a span of six days, but then again, Jim has always been the exception to just about everything.

The corridors are pretty quiet for this time of day, but Bones just counts his blessings; if only it could always be like this. He’s had to deal with quite a few morons today – including Jim – so he’s glad of the break.

When he comes to the door of Jim’s quarters, he doesn’t even bother knocking – it’s not like Jim offers him that comfort when _he_ visits _Bones’_ own rooms, so he just punches in the code he knows Jim uses and waits for the door to slide open.

He isn’t really expecting to come across something he’s not meant to, he’s just lucky, in his typical Bones fashion. Jim has gone and made his life difficult again, because Bones somehow manages to walk in on him having sex at four o’clock in the afternoon with – Christ – is that Chekov?

He’s about to go, “Oh god!” in his typically loud and sarcastic Bones drawl, and throw his hands over his eyes, but his voice gets lodged in his throat when a breathy moan that he thinks is his name floats across the room to greet him. It would have been so much easier for him to ease the awkwardness of walking in on Kirk and Chekov if he _had_ said something, but now he’s just stuck with his mouth half-open and his eyes wide as hell.

The door hisses shut behind him and his PADD clatters to the floor as he whispers, “Oh shit,” instead.

When his name is moaned again, he knows that he hasn’t been hearing things.

From where he’s standing, he can see through the open doorway of the bedroom beyond. It looks like absolute chaos inside, as all the sheets are tangled up and hanging off the bed, while the pillows are scattered about the floor like stepping-stones. In the center of the bed, Chekov is on his hands and knees with Jim, whose hips are flush against the curve of the younger man’s ass, kneels behind him. Jim has one hand twisted through the curls atop Chekov’s head and he’s tugging just hard enough to make Chekov tilt his head back, exposing his throat to Bones, who can’t quite keep his eyes off Chekov’s adam’s apple as it bobs under the pressure of him swallowing.

They’re both staring at him, their eyes wide in shock, though perhaps it isn’t just that, because Jim is still thrusting his hips, so it could be pleasure as well. Jim lets go of Chekov’s hair and the Russian’s head drops forward to hang limply, his chin almost on his chest; if Bones hadn’t been able to see said chest obviously moving from heavy breaths, he would have believed Chekov to be unconscious.

Bones thinks he should say something that starts with, “Damnit, Jim!” but his mind has gone blank. His brain can’t even remember how to move his legs – he knows this because if it did, he would have been three corridors away by now. All he seems to be able to do is keep breathing, but at that moment, he wishes he’d forget how to do that, too, because being dead is beginning to seem more appealing to Bones. Perhaps if he’s lucky a stray asteroid will smash through the wall of Jim’s quarters and they’ll be sucked into the abyss of space before any of them even have the chance to speak. It would save them all the embarrassment, but then again, that would make Bones’ life easy and that never happens when Jim is involved.

“Are you going to stare all day?” Jim says sarcastically, as though Bones has a choice in the matter. It’s not his fault he’s susceptible to human desires like everyone else.

The words, “Can I?” almost escape his lips, but he bites them back at the last moment, leaving only a short vowel-sounding noise in its wake. He clears his throat in an attempt to cover up the sound, but Jim is already smirking at him.

“Don’t,” Bones warns, narrowing his eyes, but this is Jim he’s talking to; the man has no moral boundaries.

“There’s room for another body,” Jim says, and Bones wonders how the hell Jim and Chekov got together, because Chekov turns his head to look at Bones with wide eyes, and blushes like a virgin at Jim’s words. Jim obviously hasn’t corrupted him enough, yet.

“Don’t be greedy.”

At this, Jim grins in a way that almost makes Bones smile right back at him. Damnit, he’s meant to be Jim-resistant.

“Don’t be selfish, Bones. Come over here and share yourself with us.”

By this point in their rather unusual conversation, Bones starts to wonder why he hasn’t just fled already. The door is still just behind him, but instead of taking a step backward, as he had intended to do, he stumbles and his legs move him one step forward and that’s one step too far because Jim makes a noise that’s not unlike a laugh.

“Atta boy, Bones!” Jim jokes, patting the bed beside him in a condescending manner, obviously trying to tempt Bones further into the room.

“Stop,” states Bones, hoping to hell that it doesn’t sound like it’s wavering from where Jim is, because it sure as hell sounds like it to his own ears.

Jim keeps his eyes locked with Bones’ as he dips his head to bite Chekov’s shoulder just hard enough to make the young ensign hiss reflexively in pleasure.

“Jim, knock it off!”

Jim pulls his mouth back, but only so he can let his tongue run along the shoulder instead, so Bones can see every movement and every flick of it over the stray freckles on Chekov’s skin that Bones can’t see, but imagines is there anyway. Bones schools his features into a frown, just because he doesn’t think he can do anything else. Jim rolls his eyes and stops tonguing Chekov’s skin, instead he mutters, “Whatever,” and moves his hands to Chekov’s waist. Before the kid can even protest, Jim picks up his thrusts from where he left off and buries his face in the side of Chekov’s neck, completely ignoring Bones.

Chekov keeps looking at Bones, like he should do something – anything – but Bones doesn’t know what he’s meant to do. He’s a doctor, not a mind-reader; how should he know? What he does know is that he can feel his own face flushing but, hell, whose face wouldn’t if the slap of skin-on-skin was echoing around them? He can hardly keep his eyes fixed on Chekov’s own hooded pair, he wants to look elsewhere, but he feels like he’ll lose some sort of twisted game if he moves his gaze now.

Bones swallows and Chekov licks his lips in a way that makes Bones think that perhaps Jim already _has_ completely corrupted him. When Chekov’s mouth falls open, like a wordless invitation, Bones feels his resolve fold in on itself like a collapsing black hole.

God, the way Chekov’s lips shine with saliva and the way his hair is ruffled, making him look younger – if that’s even fucking possible. Bones can’t stand it anymore, and he takes one and then two more steps closer to where Jim and Chekov are. His foot accidentally sends his PADD across the room, but he doesn’t even follow it with his eyes, too busy watching Chekov’s face twist in pleasure as Jim continues to rock his hips.

Three, four, five steps closer and if Bones wants to he can reach out and touch both Jim and Chekov. Chekov lifts his head further up and smiles at Bones. Bones doesn’t know how he does it because Jim is pounding into Chekov still, and the smile is the exact same polite one Chekov offers to Bones when they sometimes pass in the hallways.

Bones lets one of his hands drift away from his side and moves it to cup the side of Chekov’s face. Lightly, he runs his thumb over Chekov’s bottom lip and gasps when Chekov bites his thumb with a set of sharp teeth previously hidden beyond the soft fullness of his closed mouth. At the noise, Jim lifts his head, but his expression is lazy and not in the slightest bit surprised that Bones is standing there feeling up the guy he’s buried deep inside.

“Don’t let the teeth fool you; he gives the most amazing head,” Jim says, as though Chekov isn’t right there, but Chekov doesn’t complain, in fact, he continues to stare up at Bones, but now his expression is one of hunger. Bones almost chokes on his own tongue when he realizes that the teen is hungry _for his cock_.

Who is he to deny the kid what he wants?

His hands fumble as he tries to unbutton his slacks, but another pair moves in to help him. His eyes trace back along the arms attached to the hands and find they belong to Jim, who’s stopped thrusting just to help Bones. _That’s a bit of true friendship, right there_ , Bones thinks. He gets a bit distracted, though, because Jim tugs him forward to make it easier for him to reach, which forces Bones’ knees into the side of the bed and his crotch right into Chekov’s face – and, god, the boy mouths against the fabric of his pants and he might just come right there, if that’s okay.

Jim gets the material open then pushes Bones back, so he can resume thrusting, and Chekov can resume breathing.

Bones quickly shucks his pants and briefs down, letting the erection, which – let’s be honest – he’s been sporting since Jim first asked if he wanted to stay, spring free. Chekov mumbles something that sounds like, “Closer,” and Bones obeys, shuffling forwards just a tad to let Chekov flick his tongue over the head of his cock. There are three contented hums at the action – Bones knows why he moaned, and he knows why Chekov moaned, but Jim? The man moans about everything, so perhaps it is warranted.

Chekov hums again, but this time he has his mouth wrapped firmly around the tip of Bones’ erection and the vibrations make Bones’ knees want to give out. To keep himself stable, Bones places a hand on Chekov’s shoulder and hangs on for dear life.

As Bones watches, he realizes that Chekov isn’t even bobbing his head, he’s just letting Jim’s thrusts shift him backwards and forwards. The lazy bastard is just keeping his mouth and throat open to let Bones’ cock slide in and out freely. Bones isn’t complaining, though, because, damn, it feels good.

Bones moves his free hand to slide into Chekov’s hair, in a lesser imitation of how Jim’s hand had tugged the boy’s head back to show off his pretty little neck to Bones earlier. The curls bend around his fingers, as if they’re gripping his hand right back, and Bones thinks that nobody’s hair should turn him on that much. Bones tightens his hold, just to teach Chekov’s hair a lesson.

Jim is getting pretty loud now; he’s sighing and groaning more than anyone else in the room – Chekov is exempt because he’s got his mouth full – and Bones has the right mind to tell him to shut up. Instead of just telling him, Bones gets another idea, which he has to admit isn’t the best one he’s ever had, but it’ll do the job and that’s what counts.

Bones catches Jim’s eye and opens his mouth slightly as he leans forward. Jim gets the hint and, clumsily, he leans over Chekov’s back, Bones meeting him halfway, and their lips clash together in the same way they clash in life in general. Bones notes that his tongue in Jim’s mouth is a particularly good way to gag him and stores the information away.

Chekov’s teeth come back into play as they catch on Bones’ shaft, making him draw away from Jim to look down at the ensign. Chekov slides his mouth off Bones long enough to say, “Sorry, I could not breathe in that position,” but then goes straight back to what he was doing, before Bones can get a word edgewise.

Damnit, Jim is back to moaning loudly.

There’s another skin-on-skin slapping sound now, and the way Chekov whimpers around him tells him that obviously Jim is giving him a hand with reaching his orgasm. Apparently, Jim is very good at it, because Chekov begins to writhe as much as he can for somebody trapped between two other people. Bones can hear Chekov as he breathes through his nose, god knows he can feel it, too, as warm air blows over the base of his cock with every breath.

Bones lessens his grip in Chekov’s hair and opts for just running his fingers through it, gently encouraging Chekov on. He watches as Chekov’s back tightens up then relaxes, but the mouth around his cock never falters. When Jim brings his hand up from beneath Chekov, it’s covered in come and Bones can’t quite keep his eyes off it, not even when Jim brings the hand up and begins to lick it off, and, Christ, that’s one of the hottest things Bones has ever seen in his life. It’s so hot that he surprises himself as he climaxes unexpectedly into Chekov’s waiting mouth.

Jim grins like the smug bastard he is and Bones stops himself from rolling his eyes just in time.

With a gentle pop, Chekov pulls his mouth off Bones’ slowly softening cock and a mix of semen and saliva trails its way down his chin. Bones swipes at it with a palm and the kid grins at him; he’s obviously been spending way too much time with Jim.

Speaking of Jim, the man is finally putting some proper effort into his thrusts, as Chekov looks as though he’s going to get thrown off the bed and into Bones’ lap at any moment. Bones keeps a hand on Chekov’s shoulder to keep him pinned, because he’d rather not be knocked onto his ass by a naked eighteen year-old.

Jim presses his face into Chekov’s pale back and whispers something that Bones can’t quite catch, and because curiosity killed the cat, Bones doesn’t bother asking him to speak up. Jim obviously comes inside Chekov because he flops over the younger man’s back and Bones almost feels a twinge of pity for the kid because Jim is not light – Bones knows this from experience, from having to drag Jim’s sorry ass back to his quarters one too many times after a bout of drinking.

Chekov’s arms give out after a few beats, and him and Jim land in a tangle of arms and legs on the bed below. They don’t look as though they’re going to be moving anytime soon, so Bones takes a moment to get his underwear and pants back into place. When the buttons are finally fastened, Bones is left standing in an awkward silence. He needs to say something or just leave because he hates being in such a position.

He chooses the latter choice, the choice of a coward, and doesn’t even stop when Jim raises his head off Chekov’s back to say, “Anytime, Bones”.

As he stoops to pick up his long-since abandoned PADD, Bones thinks that perhaps next time he’ll knock before entering Jim's room.


End file.
